Do You Know?
by incognitIoN
Summary: For all his determination to get his machine to work Edith sees that Thomas has no confidence in himself, Edith aims to show him what she sees. (Thomas has a praise!kink. A bit of emotional manipulation on Lucille's part.) Done for the Crimson Kink meme:


"Are you working on your story?" Thomas grinned genuinely and made his way into the library.

Edith pushed up her glasses and nodded with a smile.

"It's so _exciting_." He came round the table to lean on the back of her chair.

Edith blushed at his words, there was possibly nothing better than receiving compliments on something you worked so hard on. She leaned back against him as he read.

"I will be the first in line for your book, Edith." She smiled and reached for him, he wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. "You're so much better at what you do than I am." He sighed, voice tinged with sadness. "It seems I don't have the talent to change anything no matter how strongly I desire to, useless, it's all for nothing."

Edith frowned. "Hey." She turned around in her chair. His eyes met hers. "Don't do that."

"Hm? Do what?" Thomas tilted his head.

"Put yourself down, of course. You always do that." Edith reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Why?"

Thomas shrugged. "My words are true aren't they?" He smiled sadly. "I can't be the man that I need to be to provide for my loved ones."

"You're _amazing_. Don't you know that?" Edith stood, her hand still held tightly in his as she went round the chair. "My amazing, smart, and charming husband."

Thomas looked startled at her words said so confidently and passionately. He laughed then, all the self loathing and sadness gone from his face. "Edith, _please_." Despite his words a small, slightly embarassed smile blossomed on his face. He shook his head and looked at her as if she were silly.

"Oh, but I _know_ these things." She whispered dramatically, slowly creeping forward. "I'm only saying what is true. We're builders, you and I, dreamers. We may put our hands to work in different ways but I know this. Your mind is one of a kind. You matter. Your work matters. Even on your worst day."

"You really think so?"

Edith stood on her tip toes and narrowed her eyes. "I know so." Her feet dropped flatly to the floor and she whipped around, tugging him along.

"Where are you taking me?" He chuckled.

"To your workshop." As they trudged up the stairs the dog scurried down the main hall and followed. "You're going to put that beautiful imagination of yours to work and make me something."

"What would you like?"

"Surprise me. I'm sure whatever you come up with will be wonderful."

[|∆∆∆|]

Thomas did not get any sleep. The moment Lucille dozed off he snuck away to his workshop, giddiness in his steps.

He hadn't carved anything since childhood. And it was always only for Lucille.

It felt good to make something for someone else. As he worked he imagined all of the reactions Edith might make when she saw the final product. Half of them weren't so good. So he worked very slowly and carefully. Pouring his heart into every stroke. He couldn't describe the feeling of sharing such work with a person who understood, that bared open their minds and showed it to others. It was a special, intimate thing– the work of an artist or writer or builder. And Edith understood that completely. He couldn't wait to show her.

And then he realized Edith may not be around to admire it for long.

He stopped working on it for two days. And then Edith asked how it was coming along. He became more determined to finish it, his ear open to any creaks in the floorboards or the jingling of keys as he worked. Lucille might destroy it if she saw it. Or worse– make him destroy it.

Why did he choose her? He'd never second guessed himself in that situation before. He never felt anything like that before. Edith had a fire in her, it was unpredictable and unique as every flame is. And it had inspired him to ignite his own. The flame was weak and it's candle thin and small, but it was enough to keep her warm and happy.

The words that fell from Edith's mouth that day in the library were even lovelier than the ones she typed on paper. Words for him. Genuine, heartfelt praise that held no motive other than to make him feel better. Heat fanned across his face and the grin he'd been trying to hold in all night finally came through. He was finished.

Thomas sighed happily and put it away for it to dry. It was late and Lucille would search for him if he didn't come to bed soon.

As predicted, his sister was awake, brushing her hair, staring absently at the wall. He sat in the chair behind her and waited for her to finish, a thought coming to his mind that has been laying in wait for some time now pushed itself to his lips.

"Lucille?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking earlier of ideas on other ways to make money for us."

"What?" She said, and he heard the smile in her voice and the accusation. He knew that both were well aware that this conversation would one day happened. "You don't like my way?"

"Well, I was just thinking about what her father said. Edith's. And…you've done so much for me, Lucille, more than I have done for you in all my years. I feel that I should be looking after your, as your brother, not the other way around."

"Well, as the oldest I would have to disagree, how would you do take care of us?" She turned to him, brow arched. "Thomas, you don't have to do anything, darling. I've taken care of you all my life, you have no idea of taking on such a huge responsibility. I don't expect or want you to."

"But _I_ want to."

"Is something bothering you? Do you have a problem with the way I've handled things? It's worked this far, Thomas, nothing can ruin it except our own weakness. I have worked so hard to make this work and yet you are questioning me–"

"No," Thomas shook his head. "I–I'm not trying to be ungrateful, Lucille, I just–"

" _I_ …" Lucille cut in with a stern, calm voice. "…am trying to help you, Thomas. And I alone. We are going to get your machine to work, _we_ are doing this. I know what I'm doing."

"But do we have to continue doing it this way? At least, just this once." He pleaded softly. "We can leave and–"

"And go _where_ exactly, brother?" She looked at him incredulously, he swallowed nervously. "You can't be serious. You can't divorce her. We don't even have her money yet. She has to die. We have to do this." Lucille stood and made her way over to the chair. "You will get over her, just like the last one, you'll see that they don't truly care for you like I do. You've become attached to her just like the last one and her mutt that I told you to get rid of. They just want you for your _looks_ and _charm_ , just like the old woman you married and all the others, you'll see eventually."

Thomas saw his sister's reason, even though his first wife did say yes to him just for that reason, he did ask for her hand so they could get the money. But it was different with E'nola, she was kind as well, and he was in love with Edith.

Lucille narrowed her eyes when he didn't respond. "Or…" She said slowly, "was fucking that Cushing girl that good? That you would throw our dream away that I've been working so hard for because the sex was good? While I waited here alone for you that night, worried that we would be found out. Worried that something happened to you, while you bedded her without a second thought towards us?"

Thomas looked down, his heart jerked painfully and he felt his face burn with shame. "No," he stuttered, "it's not like that. I didn't– she's nice, Lucille." He finished weakly.

"Nice?" Lucille echoed, leaning closer and grabbing his chin. "Tell me. Who initiated it?"

Thomas did not want to answer that, either way it would fuel her anger. "She did." He said quietly. "But, she would have noticed something was wrong…if…if I didn't. I _had_ to." He deemed it the safest answer, if Lucille knew that he enjoyed it Edith would be hurt even worse than she already was. The subtlety of poisoned tea could easily turn into a slow, twisting knife in the girl's heart.

Lucille hummed thoughtfully. "And did you like it?"

Thomas closed his eyes. "No." He replied matter-of-factly.

Lucille shook his face gently and forced him to look her in the eye. "Did you like it?" She repeated in a broken whisper, her eyes wide.

"No," he breathed, shaking his head. "No. She…I didn't." When Lucille didn't react he touched the back of her hand. "Lucille, please." The word stop did not utter to his lips. "It's just…" Sex. He wanted to say. But Lucille wouldn't like that answer after she told him repeatedly not to have sex with any of them. And Thomas was too tired to lie any longer, because he knew it had been more than that with Edith.

"She should have never touched you, with her tainted hands." Lucille caressed his face and he closed his eyes at her touch. "They may play the role of a loving wife but _we_ are together. _I_ love you. Forever–"

"And always," he finished. "I know. I'm sorry. I am forever grateful for the things you do for me. That you've always done for me," he told her truthfully. "I can't repay that except in my love. I love you. I do."

But he also loved Edith. Fully and happily. The words he spoke to her that day, of feeling torn if they should part were the most open ans honest he has ever been with someone other than Lucille. Edith's words came back to him the night at the post office. Maybe they could leave this all behind. Edith, Lucille, and him. Maybe Lucille will change her mind about Edith, if only his sister could see how bright and large Edith's love extended! They could be happy together, the three of them. Lucille has the determination and Edith the imagination.

Lucille kissed him, slow and hard, and it sent a shiver down his spine that he couldn't decipher as either arousal or relief of her interrogation being over. "Good. Go now, see what she's up to, I'll make her some tea." Lucille ran her hand down his chest affectionately and smiled. "Come back tonight and I will put that ridiculous child out of your thoughts."

Thomas nodded and left hastily, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing Edith's smile and basking in the warmth she brought him.

[|∆∆∆|]

Thomas made a show of it. He woke her in the middle of the night, making sure to be extra quiet as they made their way to his workshop. The larger and more dramatic he became the brighter her eyes grew. He'd placed it in a box and hidden it, setting it on his table his fingers tapped teasingly against the latch until she shook him excitedly.

"You open it." He looked up at her.

She leaned forward and rested her chin on his shoulder as she flipped the latch. She bit her lip, the reveal made all the more sweeter as she felt him practically vibrate beneath her. Edith slowly lifted the lid. " _Oh_ ," she breathed. "Thomas. This is lovely. Absolutely lovely, I can't believe it."

The butterfly – as large as her hand – was painted white with black swirls, orange specks, and fine gold trimmings.

"Here, please." He picked the butterfly up and stood, gesturing for her to take it. He felt as if he would burst from the anticipation. "Hold it, like so…" He gestured with his finger to the butterfly's sides.

"I'm almost afraid to hold it." But Edith delicately took it anyway and held it just as instructed, the butterfly wings fluttered and so did her heart. "Oh!" She cried. "It's so _wonderful_ , Thomas!" She gushed and they both laughed breathlessly. "You've really brought it to life!" She looked at him, his eyes bright with the gift that could only be experienced when you made something by yourself with your own two hands. "Like words in a book, or the blueprints to a house come to life, it has a part of you now. And it's absolutely beautiful. I am a lucky woman." She held it close to her chest and kissed his cheek.

Thomas did not look how she expected at her words, how he once reacted to them in the library. He looked torn.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry," he started and looked away, eyes red with unshed tears, but she didn't want to hear any of it as she guided him to his chair.

"How many times must I tell you how wonderful you are before it sinks in?" She placed her gift on the table and boldly sat in his lap.

She wondered then as she observed him if Thomas ever had anyone to lavish praise on his work like her father or Alan did to her. Surely Lucille must? They seemed so close and they were all they had. But evidence would point to the contrary. He seemed both starved and unworthy of her words. She knew how that felt all too well, but Thomas was affected by it so strongly. Just as with her father's words, it didn't motivate him the way it did her, it gave her all the more evidence that no one ever told him.

"It will work. Your machine. Do you know why?" She kissed his forehead. "Because you have the power to make it so. Do you know why?" Thomas shivered and wrapped his arms around her tightly. She kissed his nose. "Because the first time we met I knew you were a fighter." She kissed his jaw. "Thomas Sharpe, your life will change for the better simply because you have the will and the heart."

Thomas moaned softly and turned his head to nuzzle her neck, placing heated, open mouthed kisses along her skin. She continued her mantra of how talented and lovely she found him, how she could write an entire story on the fire she saw in his eyes alone. His kisses and touches soon became feverish at her words, and she never stopped even when he made her voice shake and thoughts cloudy with desire.

Suddenly, he froze just as he had the first time they were in a similar situation in his workshop, only this time she knew why. "It's just the wind, Thomas," she assured him, taking her face in his hands. "I don't think she'd look here twice, do you? Especially if we're very, very quiet." She smoothed his curls down and scratched along his neck, Thomas watched her every move as if in awe. "Your sister seems to pop up at the most innapropriate moments." She said teasingly. He did not smile.

"I wish we were back at the post office." He whispered, as if confiding a dirty secret to her, eyes glued to the door.

Edith wanted to ask about Lucille's behavior the morning they came back but she wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer. She never had any siblings but she's heard how protective, an older sibling could be towards the younger, sometimes irrationally so. She thought Lucille had liked her, but since she's been here his sister has been nothing but distant and odd.

She rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers ran through his hair and scratched lightly at his neck, he leaned into her touch hungrily. They stayed like that for a while, listening to the house creak and groan. But as time passed and they sat in silence her desire only grew. She shifted in his lap and found he felt the same.

She bit her lip shyly, she had no way of going about to ask, the very first and last time had been purely instinctual. This felt entirely different. They both knew this as they looked at one other and neither moved. Until she did. Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his eagerly and he reacted similarly. "I want you," she mumured between kisses, "can I have you?"

" _Yes_."

Edith jumped up, a grin on her face as she lifted her dress and removed her drawers. His hands flew to his trousers and she was on him.

It was slow and perfect. Her hands steady on her shouler and his around her waist as she lazily rocked into him. The chair groaned under their weight. Their eyes never strayed to the door or the cold, harsh wind or thougts of this sinking house. Thomas' eyes fluttered closed in pleasure but they never stayed that way, they trailed down their joined bodies, studied her lips, stared into her own shamelessly.

"I never thought," she said shakily, "I would meet someone as wonderful as you."

Thomas' eyes widened. They were so incredibly close and full of expression, even in the darkness he couldn't hide himself away there.

"Do you have _any_ idea…how much you mean to me?" She rocked forward, their chests pressed against each other, noses touching.

"I _don't_." He moaned. "I don't. I don't deserve it."

"What you do to me, Thomas?" She ignored him, rolling her hips, his fingers dug into her skin. "The things–"

"Edith," he sobbed.

"You feel so wonderful," she panted. "Inside and out."

" _Edith_."

"You and your big, glorious, beautiful mind "

Thomas pulled her down and kissed her as if it were his last time.

"I just want you to know that. I do. I want you to believe it too."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes."

"I love you. So much. I love you so much, Thomas."

Thomas' eyes widened, jaw slacked, her name strained on his lips as he came and she followed a few moments after.

He held her close, buried his face in her golden hair and breathed her in. "You really think all of those things about me." He said in awe.

"I do. And you do too, right?" He nodded and she smiled against his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too, Edith." Strength and confidence were in those five words, if he didn't know it now he would soon.


End file.
